


The Sea Cares Not for the Struggles of Man

by madelegg



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Depression, Drowning, Eggs, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mating, MerMay, Merman Claude, Ocean, Oviposition, Sailing, Seasickness, Sirens, Suicidal Thoughts, Superstition, i refuse to edit anything i write, im sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24182857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelegg/pseuds/madelegg
Summary: King Dimitri, weighed down to the point of despair by the pressures of war, boards a ship sailing across the Leicester Sound to the Alliance. Sick and barely clinging to sanity, he hears a song that promises a peace he has not known since he was a child.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 36
Kudos: 175





	1. He is Plagued by Bad Omens

_ There’s sirens in those waters, yer Majesty. The she-beasts’ll drag even the finest sailor down. _

Dimitri scowled to himself. Ridiculous rumors from greedy sailors. Every minute he spent on their ship, he regretted paying the bastards the extra price to pass through the Leicester Sound rather than passing through the Oghma Mountains. It was faster to do so, given the difficulty of crossing the legendary mountain range, but the freezing temperatures and rampant sailor superstitions made it difficult to find a captain willing to sail across to the Alliance with any human cargo. But it was midsummer, and Dimitri didn’t have time for superstitions. 

He did have to pay for them though. One would think captains would be lining up to beg to take the King of Faerghus across the bay: the notoriety they’d gain from having royal boots on the decks of their ships should have been more than enough to encourage applicants, but according to Felix, Dimitri’s head advisor, hiring a captain had been a huge pain. They had to sweeten the deal with an increase in payment that Dimitri now felt was completely undeserved. 

That wasn’t to say that the ship was unpleasant. Quite the opposite; the vessel was clean and orderly, spacious, and the majority of the King’s entourage seemed to be enjoying the ride. Dimitri, on the other hand, had been stricken by a problem he had not expected.

Pale to the point of almost green, Dimitri was half tipped over the railing of the main deck at least every few hours or so, sometimes too tired to even make it back down to his quarters before he had to drag himself back upstairs again. The men offered no comfort, shying away from him as much as possible, which suited him fine, while Felix checked in every once in a while to make sure he was still breathing.

Felix rested his arms on the heavy railing and looked at his king, who gripped the wood with knuckles as white as his sickly face.

“The sailors are talking about you,” he said.

Dimitri scowled. “Are you here to deliver lowlife gossip or is there a good reason you are forcing me to listen to your voice?”

Felix was unphased by his king’s harsh words. This was the boar Felix always knew Dimitri had hidden within himself until the war brought it to the surface, which was perhaps why Felix was the only royal advisor who could accomplish anything when communicating with His Majesty.

“They say if you continue to lean over the bow like that, something will pull you under.”

Dimitri scoffed. “How ludicrous. Do not waste my time with that nonsense.”

Felix looked out across the endless sea at the lowering sun and took a deep breath of the ocean air, nearly untouched by human stench if it weren’t for the reek of Dimitri beside him.

“They may harbor ill will toward you, Your Majesty,” he said, voice monotone.

“Then notify our guard and leave me.”

Felix snorted and turned around, leaning his back to the railing and crossing his arms. “You seem rather unconcerned.”

“My guard, equipped with some of the best swordsmen in Faerghus, fill half this ship while the other half is fish-reeking commoners with rusty knives at their hips,” he said, as if that was reason to be so flippant about his safety.

“Very well, then. The guard will be notified,” Felix said, but didn’t move.

Dimitri said nothing. It didn’t matter if Felix did it now or later or not at all. If the sailors planned on causing him harm, perhaps it would be for the best. He was not a loved ruler nor a loved man. Compared to his father—which he always was—he may as well have been the devil. 

_ Oh if only Lambert were still around, he would have raised that man properly. Oh if only Lambert were still around, we’d surely be at peace right now. Shame, Dimitri will never fill his father’s boots. _

The reputation of a king with a short and peaceful rule was certainly bright. 

_ What would you do, Father? _ Dimitri thought to himself.  _ In a war such as this, your stepdaughter desperate to put a knife to your throat? You would crumble. Just like I have. _

Dimitri put his head in his heads. _No he wouldn’t._ _He would have made peace. He would have made it all right_.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a hand, a hand he did not feel, resting upon his shoulder. He traced his tired eye up its arm until he met his father’s eyes, sockets empty.

“Please let me rest, Dimitri,” he whispered.

Dimitri reached a hand up to rest it on his shoulder.  _ Once you rest, so will I,  _ he thought.

Felix eyed Dimitri’s hand reaching up, touching his own shoulder. With that dead look in Dimitri’s eye, he wondered at times if he planned to simply launch himself into the freezing waters. That was why he hovered, even when Dimitri told him to leave. What a hassle this man could be.

The ship suddenly lurched and Dimitri’s hand slapped back to the railing. His stomach twisted violently and he flopped over the edge, gagging and coughing, only for spurt of bile to dribble from his drooling lips. The goddess was surely punishing him.

He groaned and wiped the drool from his lips on a handkerchief from his pocket, eyes trained on the horizon, which was often the only thing that made his body feel somewhat stable, but soon the horizon would be nothing but blackness, with the sun now over halfway down. He tried not to blink, as if soaking in the horizon would let him sleep without retching for once.

The orange glow of the setting sun reflected across the rippling ocean waters, making it glitter like flakes of gold. It would have been beautiful from shore, but Dimitri was too ill and the sailors too desensitized to pay attention.

And then, pushing just slightly against the surface of the water, Dimitri caught a glimpse of the smooth back of a large fish, its fin breaking into the golden light before submerging again. For a moment, Dimitri straightened a bit. He hadn’t seen any life in the water since they’d set sail two days ago, which meant little, but he surprised himself by how interested it made him. He looked at Felix, about to ask if he’d seen it, but Felix’s sharp eyes were pointed across the other side of the ship. And why would he care anyway? It was just a fish. The ocean was full of them.

Felix pushed himself off from the railing and stuck his hands in his pockets. 

“I’ll go notify the guard,” he said again, giving Dimitri a wary glance before striding away and leaving Dimitri to his seasickness. 

Minutes later, the sun finally slipped beneath the ocean, leaving just moments of light behind, and Dimitri glimpsed another fish cresting the water, another fin, cutting through the surface. Closer this time. Maybe they were passing through a school of sharks.

What would it be like, Dimitri wondered, to tip into shark infested waters? To have his skin torn by teeth rather than blades? His left hand slid his right sleeve up, feeling one of his many thick battle scars, tough and discolored, and wondered why the body bothered to heal itself if it never healed properly. Then he immediately questioned why he cared. Fussing about the ugliness of scars was a waste of energy.

He rubbed at the eyepatch covering an empty socket. Waste of energy…

In the twilight, the last glow of the sun seemed to be coming from the sea alone and Dimitri chanced a look straight down, though it made him painfully woozy, to see if he could see any more sharks while the light still allowed him to. The dark water slapped against the thick wooden hull for several minutes until Dimitri thought it was about time for him to return to his cabin and pray for sleep.

But just before he lifted his head, he saw a shape under the surface. Ah! Perhaps they were this close.

He stared, straining his eyes, and thought perhaps he caught a glimpse of gold. He’d never heard of a gold shark before, but the sea contained multitudes that the land would never see, and far from the coast in Fhirdiad, Dimitri knew little about sea life. So he stared in rapt fascination, watching for another glimpse of gold.

There! A splash, the splash of a back fin. He suspected the creatures were congregating under the boat, perhaps seeking a meal out of a fallen sailor, or perhaps their vessel was just passing over their habitat.

And then he heard a thump, lightly, against the hull. He turned his head to see if any of the crew had noticed, but the deck was quiet, with the few crewmembers still on deck working at their stations far away. He looked back down at the water. Had they hit a coral reef? Or were these beasts slapping against the boat?

He heard it again, another thump, and he could see the dark water splashing softly, as if the shark was teasing him, refusing to break through the water and show itself. Strange creature. Perhaps it wasn’t a shark at all, but one of those playful sea beasts. A dolphin maybe. But was there such a dolphin with touches of gold on its body?

Dimitri’s head was starting to spin again and his stomach twisted, so he tore his eyes away from the water below him and looked back at the horizon, or what he could see of it, taking deep breaths, begging the goddess to ease his pain. He body felt hollow, carved out by all the retching, his once soft heart now dry and shriveled, leaving empty space behind. If he tipped over this edge, the war would be over for him. If he tipped over this edge, would that be enough to pay penance to the souls of the dead? Or would his immortal soul be torn apart by them in the afterlife as his atonement?

He was so tired.

His head bowed again and he looked into the black waters one last time and saw no splash. Perhaps the creatures had grown bored and left. Perhaps they never cared about the ship in the first place and this was just coincidence.

No, that wasn’t it. Dimitri could see something again just under the surface.

_ Go to bed. Why do you waste time gazing at worthless creatures? _

It was not a fin. Dimitri squinted his eyes.

_ Stop it, you are making yourself sick again. _

No, it couldn’t be. Not all the way out here, days into the Leicester sound.

_ A… corpse? _

It was a face. A human face.

_ A spirit. _

But he did not recognize this face. And never did his spirits appear like the dead, but rather they surrounded him, often interspersed among his guard, often bloody with their death wounds.

Its eyes blinked. Dimitri blinked back, lips parted. Alive. It was alive, under that water, still, and no air bubbles came from its mouth. Dimitri leaned over the banister and his arm dangled down, nearly twenty feet from sea level. 

And a hand broke the surface to reach toward it.

Dimitri’s breath caught in his throat. Whatever this creature was, it wanted to communicate. It wanted to speak to him, and just him. And he hadn’t seen a friendly hand in years.

Then, as if spooked, the creature retracted its hand and the face disappeared into the black waters, leaving Dimitri’s heart pounding and hand shaking.

A hand on his back make him jump up and yelp, reeling on the intruder, and was confronted with Felix, wide eyed, upper lip curled ever so slightly.

“Felix,” he said, as if surprised to see his own advisor by his side.

“We’re increasing security around your cabin. You should get some rest.”

Dimitri blinked and glanced back behind him, over the edge of the boat. Concern flashed in Felix’s eyes.

“What?” Felix asked.

“I thought I saw something,” Dimitri said. “In the water.”

Felix glanced over his shoulder at the quiet ocean.

“Probably your own vomit,” he said bitterly.

“No,” Dimitri said quickly. “It was alive. A face.”

Felix’s brows knitted together. He’s caught Dimitri speaking to nothing—to ghosts—more than once, but he didn’t refer to them as alive. 

“You’re sick and exhausted. You need rest.” Felix was careful not to tell Dimitri he was wrong; telling him he was seeing nothing was not an argument that ever ended well. Even if Felix thought it was all in Dimitri’s, it was best to let Dimitri believe whatever he wanted to believe. He could believe he shat gold if he wanted to, as long as he was alive and willing to fulfill his duties as king.

Dimitri’s shoulders slumped. Of course Felix didn’t believe him. He never did. And it wasn’t worth trying to get him to see what Dimitri saw. What would either of them gain from that anyway? Adjusting his heavy cloak, he dragged his feet behind Felix, down below deck and back to his private cabin. Felix helped Dimitri remove the cloak, draping it over a chair, which left Dimitri in a plain shirt and breeches; he hadn’t the energy to don anything fancier.

“There will be two guards outside your cabin the whole night,” Felix informed him. “Please try to sleep.”

There was a hint of desperation in Felix’s voice, just a bit, like the voice of a mother begging her child to leave her alone for five minutes. Dimitri waved him off.

“Dismissed,” he muttered, and Felix openly rolled his eyes and left.

This was how things always were between them. If Felix wasn’t such a strong advisor and Dimitri wasn’t the only heir, things would have likely broken down between them a long time ago.

Dimitri unbuttoned his breeches and let them crumple to the ground, then stepped out of them and fell onto the hard mattress in his bunk. He hated this cabin. It was private, so at least he didn’t have to share bunks with anyone else, but it was small and cramped with only the smallest porthole to bring in moonlight. It made him feel so trapped.

But wrung out and ill, his body fell asleep, regardless of how uncomfortable he was.

He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he opened his eyes suddenly to the same darkness he’d closed them to. His vision was blurry; he could only make out vague shapes illuminated by the dull blue moon in the dirty porthole. The ship swayed sickeningly, like always, but his body felt weighed down and there was a tightening around his throat, but he wasn’t being touched.

He couldn’t move. His heart started to pound and he scanned the room with his eyes, head glued to his pillow. As his eyes adjusted, all he could see was his room looking as it always did: desk against the wall, chair askew, pants on the floor. That couldn’t be it though. He wasn’t alone. He was sure of it.

And then, just barely audible above the crashing of the waves, Dimitri heard music. It was nothing like he’d ever heard before. The melody did not match any instrument nor did it sound like a voice. It was like an animal song, a howl that was growing louder and louder. And not just one, but many voices. Multitudes of sound all forming once call, which pitched up and down, slowly, with the rocking of the sea.

Dimitri’s eyes strained to see the porthole, where he thought the voices were coming from, but it was sealed shut. The sound wasn’t coming from one place either. It was emanating from everywhere, vibrating from the deep ocean through the wooden hull of the ship. Could this really be an animal? Perhaps it was an angel, a chorus of angels, maybe the goddess herself.

Dimitri was waiting for the panic to set in as the song grew louder, but instead, even his initial fear drained away, and he felt completely calm. Safe. He’d forgotten what that felt like.

A new fear arose. A panic that this peace, the first peace he’d felt in years, was going to disappear, and soon. He wanted to cry. He wanted to hurl himself off the side of the boat. How could he live and never feel this way again? How could he return to the real world?

_ “You’re in so much pain.” _

A soft voice separated itself from the song, which quieted. Dimitri tried to open his mouth to respond, but it wouldn’t move. His voice wouldn’t come out.

_ “You don’t have to live like this.” _

Dimitri strained fiercely against these invisible restraints that kept his body completely still. He couldn’t even lift a finger.

_ “I could take you away from here.” _

“Who are you?!” Dimitri screamed, or tried to, but all he heard coming out of his mouth was a strained breath, just a whisper of a scream.

And then  _ he _ was there. That same face. The hand that had reached for him from under the water. It reached for him again and stroked his cheek.

It was a man, brown skinned, dark hair, wet and sticking to his face. Dimitri had no idea how he got into his room, with two guards outside his door and his porthole sealed from the inside. But he was there, his warm, wet palm cupping the scruff of Dimitri’s unshaved jaw.

_ “You can leave this world behind,” _ the man said, but his mouth didn’t move. He only smiled.  _ “It’s going to be okay.” _

Dimitri believed him. With every fiber of his being, he believed this man, this mystic being. It was going to be okay. He would have this peace again. He didn’t have to be afraid.

He had so many questions. He wanted to know who this man was, what he was, how he was in his mind and if he could remain there. But the man’s fingertips slid away from his jaw. And he woke up.

His eyes snapped open. Again. 

He sat up so fast he made his head spin, his heart pounding as he looked around the room for the man, for evidence of his presence. He felt his cheek, but it was dry, and so was his bed. 

So it really had been a dream. Then that face in the water… was that a dream too? Dimitri swung his legs over the side of the bed and leaned over, putting his head in his hands. A dream. A waking nightmare. But it had felt so real. Perhaps the man in his bed was a dream, but that song, it was so loud it shook the whole boat. Others had to have felt that, right?

The light of sunrise was streaming through the porthole and despite the caked grime on the glass filtering the sun rays, Dimitri had to shield his eyes. It didn’t take long for his wooziness to return, along with the oppressive exhaustion of dehydration and a painfully empty stomach. He forced himself to his feet, acutely aware of his body weight on his aching joints, and shuffled to the door two steps away. He yanked it open with a force that made both his guards jump, then stiffen their backs and bow.

“Have you been on duty all night?” Dimitri demanded.

The guards straightened, paling, and looked at each other. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri paused for a beat. “ _ And? _ Did you see anything? Hear anything?”

The ferocity of the king’s demanding questions had both guards stunned for a moment before they could answer. “No, Your Majesty. All was quiet.”

Dimitri felt his stomach drop. “Nothing? No singing?”

“...Singing, Your Majesty?”

Dimitri pushed past them. “Forget it. Where is Felix?” He didn’t wait for them to answer, stalking down the hallway to Felix’s cabin.

He threw open the door where Felix was pulling on his boots, likely in preparation to go wake Dimitri and force him to go to breakfast. He stared at Dimitri when he burst through, disheveled and pantless.

“Learn how to knock, boar,” Felix grumbled, looking back down to finish fastening his buttons. “And where are your clothes?”

“Felix, did you hear singing last night? Coming from the sea?”

Felix sighed, as if he’d heard this question a thousand times. “No, boar, you were dreaming. Go put on pants.”

“It was not a dream; it shook the whole ship!”

Felix groaned and rubbed his forehead. “It was a  _ dream _ . You have been sick for two days; you are dehydrated and starved. If it was not a dream, it was a hallucination from exhaustion. Now get out of my room.”

Dimitri gritted his teeth, but finding no ally in his advisor, he stomped out and returned to his room to put on the same pants he wore the day before. Felix was at his door when he came out, forcing him to breakfast, where he picked at the bread and oatmeal provided for him. There were fancier meals more befitting a king within the cargo of the ship, but Felix would not allow them to go to waste on a man who wouldn’t make it through a piece of bread and a cup of water.

It was times like this when Felix most resented Dimitri, standing over him like a babysitter to make sure he ate and drank simply so he wouldn’t die. He was the royal advisor, not a caretaker for the infirm. He wanted to punch Dimitri in that pathetic face of his and tell him to grow the fuck up.

But, even though Felix would never mince his words, he found that lashing out at Dimitri often achieved the opposite of what Felix wanted. So he kept his mouth shut when he could.

While Dimitri ate, he could feel the eyes of the sailors on him, openly staring, whereas most days they would only glance briefly. Dimitri stared back at one until he looked away, but found he didn’t care enough to address the widespread observation. Felix, sitting beside him, scanned the room cautiously. The room was uncomfortably quiet.

When Dimitri had choked down a piece of bread and his water, he stood up unceremoniously and walked out. Felix followed.

“And where are you going?”

“To my room.”

“Boar, stop.” 

Dimitri didn’t stop. He brushed past his own guards and anyone else standing in the hallway.

“Dimitri! Stop!” Felix snapped.

Dimitri finally paused and looked at him, and Felix became acutely aware of how dark the circles under Dimitri’s eye were, how sunken his cheeks looked, how brittle his hair was. Felix closed the gap between them and grabbed Dimitri’s shirt so he could pull him down and whisper in his ear.

“These sailors, they think you are bad luck to have aboard.”

Dimitri blinked. Why was this a problem?

“Do they plan to throw me overboard?” His voice was low with sarcasm.

“ _ No _ . But we still have a few days remaining in this trip, and these mad men live by superstition.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you to keep your mouth shut and do not speak to anyone on this ship until we are safely ashore. I do not want them to touch you. Nor do I want them putting ideas in your head.”

Dimitri straightened up and looked down at Felix. “What sort of ideas are you alluding to?”

“Any ideas that may delay our progress.” That was all Felix was going to say on the matter.

Felix, who was gathering as much information on the rumors around the ship as he could, had heard a great deal of negativity within the superstitious gossip, with a great deal of it involving Dimitri. First, it was that he would attract the ire of anti-Faerghan ships from the Alliance. Then it was that Dimitri was attracting the ire of the sea because he did not pay her his respects. Some said he was displeasing the goddess and the whole ship was going to be punished for it. Others said he was attracting sharks, which had been spotted the previous night and were omens of death.

The whole crew was on edge, most believing that they would be on the chopping block for Dimitri’s bad luck.

But now, with Dimitri asking questions about singing, the mood had shifted drastically.

_ He’s attracting sirens. _

_ The sirens want some human royalty to chew on. _

_ They’ll drag us all down with him. We be required to sacrifice ourselves for ‘im. _

_ If the sirens want him, they can take him. _

_ They won’t be satisfied with just one. _

It was all ridiculous; Felix knew that, and hopefully so did his guard, but at this point he had no idea what Dimitri believed. The man seemed to be driven solely by fears of things Felix couldn’t even see.

The two returned to their rooms, where Dimitri attempted to wait out another day fraught with headaches and nausea, but the sea was having none of it. By midafternoon, the blue skies had been replaced with dark clouds as far as the eye could see, and the ship was rocking more heavily, more erratically.

Dimitri trudged himself up to the main deck yet again, to cling to the railing until he was vomiting into the sea once more.

_ The sirens can sense his weakness. _

_ The sea’s already punishing him. _

Dimitri draped his arms over the railing so he could slump against it. He was certainly being punished, that much was clear.

The rain began, soaking into Dimitri’s heavy cloak, chilling him until he shivered like a wet dog. The boat seemed to lurch harder, at times tipping Dimitri’s center of gravity toward the water, but it only served to shove his chest painfully into the banister. The weight of his body kept him solidly on deck.

His mind was empty aside from the loathing of his own body, but deep within his heart, he seemed to be begging the goddess to do it. Daring her to throw him over. It would end the war, he realized, if he did. Not in his favor, of course, but it would end nevertheless. For the commonfolk, that would be everything. So many people who didn’t care who won; they could only afford to care as far as their next meal. The only difference the war made is that they now had to pray that their homes would not be burned and their families slaughtered.

An image flashed through his head. His father, decapitated. His step-mother, sliced open. The royal guard, creating an ocean of blood that soaked into his small shoes. His stomach twisted.

His body lurched and he retched into the sea once more.

_ “You’ve been through hell, haven’t you?” _

Dimitri, chest heaving, recognized the voice immediately.

_ “I can feel it. A pain the force of a hurricane.” _

“What are you?” he mumbled.

_ “There is no war here. No bloodshed. I can give you peace and rest.” _

Dimitri looked down, straining his eyes, trying to see some trace of the creature he was sure was speaking to him. This was not a dream. No, it was the middle of the day. He was wide awake. This was real.

_ “Just let go. I’ll catch you.” _

“Where… where are you?” Dimitri’s voice cracked into a pitiful whimper.

_ “I’m right here. I’ll catch you.” _

Dimitri looked, but all he could see is foamy water churning and slamming into the hull of the ship.

_ “It’s your choice.” _

The singing began again, only one voice, but that peaceful feeling returned. He’d already forgotten what it felt like, and again, the fear that it would disappear returned. His eyes stung with sea spray and tears as he leaned over the railing, trying desperately to see that face under the choppy waters. Both his arms dangled over the edge, the rain hitting his arms but his body was so cold he could barely feel it. He silently begged to see hands reaching back at him.

And then, in the water, he thought he caught a glimpse of brown. Wavy brown hair amidst the white seafoam. He was there. Right there. He had to be.

The ship hit a wave and lurched, and Dimitri tipped over the railing, crashing into that song guiding him to safety.

Dimitri’s body seemed to pierce the water like a lance, sinking under the white foam with a splash swept over immediately by a wave. He couldn’t see anything, his eyes stinging with saltwater when he attempted to open them, and all he could see through blurry slits was darkness. Yet, somehow, he wasn’t scared. He didn’t try to resurface. He didn’t try to do anything at all. Instead, he listened.

The song was so much louder beneath the waves, like the surface of the ocean had been muffling it the whole time. Here, he could feel the song wash over his body and sink deep into his bones, echo in his chest. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard; even the goddess could not have such a beautiful voice.

For a moment, faith wavering, he thought perhaps he had imagined everything, that this was all a dream, and he’d fallen into the ocean and would simply drown. But if that were true, why did he not fight it?

Suddenly, cutting through the tossing waves battering him blindly, he felt hands on his face, so sturdy. He tried to open his eyes, but they stung so harshly he had to keep them glued shut. He became aware that his lungs were burning along with his eyes and, unable to stop himself, he let out the last bit of air in his lungs. It bubbled from his mouth like a quivering beast, and swam away.

Mouth open, filling with seawater, Dimitri felt lips press to his, sealing the space between them, sucking out the seawater. Something brushed against his legs, then bounced gently against them. Something smooth, heavy. He couldn’t feel much more through his breeches. And he was starting to feel sleepy.

_ “Let go. I’ve got you.” _

_ Thank the goddess, _ Dimitri thought. 

Finally, he could leave it to someone else. Finally, he didn’t have to try so damn hard. So he did as he was told. He let go. And his mind went dark.


	2. He is Tormented by the Lost

Dimitri’s time unconscious flashed by in seconds and he woke thinking his fall had been another nightmare. He had not yet opened his eyes, about to debate whether he should wake or attempt to return to sleep when the aches of his body started to flare up. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

_ Back to sleep. Back to sleep, _ he willed himself.  _ You cannot feel ill if you are asleep. _

But it wasn’t just nausea he felt, or even a headache. No, it was a full body encompassing ache, brought on by bone-deep cold, with a heavy pressure across his whole body. He could feel his body start to tremble and his eyes finally opened.

Above him, inches from his face, was a man.

Dimitri’s lips parted but no sound came out. The man, the one with the brown hair, who had beckoned him—no, saved him—from the frothy waves was on top of him, and despite the discomfort of the pressure, Dimitri didn’t want to lose his warmth.

“You…?” Dimitri mumbled.

The man flashed a toothy grin, showing off a row of sharp teeth. “Me!” he said.

Dimitri blinked. That voice. To hear it in his ears and not his mind made it far more real. He lifted a hand to see if it would pass through the man as it would his visions, but his trembling palm landed firmly on his cheek. The man leaned into it, then reached up a hand to hold it there.

_ He’s warm. _

“You nearly froze to death,” the man said. “I’ve warmed you up as best as I could, but I need you to take it easy, okay?”

Dimitri nodded, brows furrowing. His head was so clouded with the fog of the cold that he struggled to stay focused. He took inventory on his body, which felt mostly numb, and his head was so heavy he wasn’t ready to try and lift it. But he was aware enough to realize he was no longer clothed. He dropped his hand and tried to pat himself down, finding that his body was bare but he was covered by cloth.

Suddenly Dimitri recalled something he’d overheard the sailors whisper among themselves.

_ “They don’t always kill ye, merfolk don’t. No, sometimes they trap and keep ye down in the depths with jus’ enough food to survive. Then they  _ use _ yer body.” _

Dimitri had been intrigued by that, intrigued enough to stop in his tracks and listen for a moment longer.

_ “They all got long tendrils they’ll stick up yer holes, stuff ye full o’ them beastie eggs, and when the little parasites are grown, they’ll  _ cut _ em outta ye!” _

Dimitri shifted his frozen hand to his abdomen, too numb to feel much of himself, and a chill went through him.

“I had to take off your wet clothes,” the man explained. “So they didn’t freeze solid.”

Dimitri blinked. Right. That made sense. Wet clothes would be the death of him. So the man undressed him. Then put a blanket over him, surely for his dignity. 

He moved his hand up further, touching the body of the man on top of him, and he felt smoothness. Almost like skin, but not the same. And he remembered.

He let his hand fall and the man slid off Dimitri, releasing him from the weight but opening him up to the harsh cold. Trembling, Dimitri turned his head to gaze at the body of his savior.

The man’s green eyes locked with Dimitri’s for a brief moment before he leaned back a bit, knowing Dimitri was taking him all in. He was massive, his upper body proportional to a human but his lower half extending far beyond even the tallest man’s toes. His upper body was dark skinned, fading into a dark tail with a cracked pattern of gold covering him from waist to fin. He flopped his tail and it slapped on the stone floor.

“My name is Claude,” the man said. “Not sure when you were gonna ask, but I figured you should know.”

“D-Dimitri.”

“I know,” he said with a radiant smile.

He wriggled closer to Dimitri and pulled the blankets up over his chest, which turned out to be not blankets but pieces of cloth stitched together, with things like pant pockets and button holes still visible. Though all the buttons had been removed. The cloth below him was the same, all haphazardly stitched together, draped over a base built from what looked like an old wooden lifeboat. Whatever filled the boat to make the bed was lumpy, but not altogether uncomfortable.

Beyond the strange bed, the rest of the room seemed almost too much to take in. They were in a cave of some sort, though the only light came from sunlight streaming in through a hole in the arching stone ceiling. The only real way in was through the dark water gently lapping at the stone floor across the room.

And that was the only natural thing about this room. The rest was just… stuff. Clothes and shoes, silverware, china, chests and jars—the latter filled with all manner of things, from buttons to pickled food. There were pots and pans, jewelry of all kinds, gold and silver pieces organized in buckets, crates stacked on crates to make shelves upon shelves for swords and axes and lances, rusty arrows and unstrung bows, old boots and carved pipes and iron keys. And on top of all of it were books. An impossible amount of books, some clearly so waterlogged they were destroyed, but others in seemingly average condition, stacked all over, perhaps organized in some way foreign to Dimitri. He couldn’t make out any of the titles from his position.

And in the middle of it all, fin slapping the floor like an eager hound, was Claude, awaiting Dimitri’s opinion.

“Claude…” What could he say? That it was nice? Was it? Dimitri was so confused, dizzy, his head aching.

Claude sensed his distress and wriggled over, placing a palm on his cheek, hovering his face over Dimitri like a concerned mother. He was so close to him; Dimitri could smell his salty breath.

“You must be confused,” he said. Such an obvious observation, but Dimitri was so out of it that he was grateful for the validation. “You don’t have to worry about anything right now. You’re safe here and I’ll take care of you. You’ll be okay.”

Dimitri felt like crying, but he didn’t know why. He wanted to believe Claude. It would be so easy to believe Claude, let him take care of everything. But… but what?

_ The war. They depend on you. _

Claude’s thumb stroked Dimitri’s cheek. “There’s no war down here.”

“Can you… read minds?”

Claude smiled sympathetically. “I can sense your pain.”

_ My pain. _ For a being like Claude, his pain must be so potent, so obvious. But the war, its source, did Claude know about that? He clearly knew at least a basic knowledge of that above water. Perhaps more, given his underwater library.

“That does not explain your knowledge of…” he struggled to find the words, “human affairs.”

Claude let his hand slide away. “I’ve been following you for a while. And I’ve got some pretty sharp hearing.”

For a while? The whole trip, perhaps. Then how much had he heard? When Dimitri attempted to go over his previous days in his head, he felt exhausted and could conjure little. Only snippets of Felix’s anger and days of retching into the ocean. 

“That must have been an unpleasant time for you,” Dimitri muttered.

“Only because I hated to see you suffer.”

Dimitri scowled. “Hate to see me suffer? What do you know of my suffering?”

His heart rate rose. He felt his old furies rise in his sunken chest.

“I only know how much you’re hurting. And that you don’t deserve that.”

Dimitri’s stomach wrenched as several emotions hit him at once.

“Do I not? How did you come upon that conclusion? From your magical aura readings?” Dimitri snapped.

He expected Claude to frown, to shrink back or lower his gaze in shame or even in fear, not that Claude had anything to fear, but Dimitri was so used to being feared. But Claude didn’t even flinch.

_ Of course he did not flinch. He has you defenseless at the tip of his sword. _

Claude looked at him blankly. 

“No, I just think you seem like a good person,” Claude said, his words sounding so innocent but his tone so blatantly revealing their falseness.

“You steal me from my ship and then see fit to mock me?”

“I didn’t steal you, Dimitri. It was your choice.”

“The storm, that which you clearly conjured, launched me into the water!”

“I don’t have that kind of power. You jumped.” 

“I was thrown! We were passing through a squall and I was clinging for my life!”

“It was a light rain, Dimitri. You jumped. It was your choice.”

_ It’s your choice. _

Claude’s words sparked a memory that the shock of the water had washed away. The pressure of the railing on Dimitri’s chest, the light rain on his back that seemed so much heavier in his mind, and Claude’s voice reminding him that it was his choice. And he chose.

Dimitri’s eyes filled with tears, throat constricting, and he swallowed hard. Had he really believed Claude was there when he jumped? Or did he believe that it was all a nightmare, like Felix said? Because if he was in Felix’s reality, he’d intentionally drowned himself. To Felix, he was dead. 

The implications of that were so immense that Dimitri felt he might be sick. He twisted under the makeshift blankets and clutched his face with his frozen hands, moaning. Dead. Dead! To everyone above water, there was no way he had survived, not in these freezing northern waters. To them, he had killed himself! Abandoned them! To them, he was a coward!

But was he not a coward still, jumping after the promises of comfort that he’d heard in a dream? Or maybe it was all a trick, siren magic. He hadn’t wanted this. If he had been in his right mind, he would have stayed on course.

_ You have never been in a right mind in all your life, _ he cursed himself, feeling his breaths shorten in distress.

And then Claude was there, before the panic took over, taking his hands and curling them within his own, holding them to his warm chest, which stopped Dimitri’s squirming.

“You’re okay,” he said, moving closer again to soothe him with the warmth of his body. “Take deep breaths.”

Dimitri swallowed hard and nodded, trying to calm his racing heart and wheezing lungs. It took minutes before his tense body started to relax.

“Dimitri… was this not what you wanted? You heard my promises, didn’t you? I still plan to keep them.”

“Your promises… right,” Dimitri mumbled. All those things he’d heard in his mind… which were his promises and which were Dimitri’s imagination? “Remind me… what your promises were?”

Claude brought Dimitri’s hands down and gently covered them with the blanket, then rested a hand on his chest.

“That I’d catch you if you jumped. That you would be safe here.”

“Our war cannot reach the ocean floor, is that it?”

“You say that like you don’t believe me.”

Dimitri gritted his teeth. “I do not know,” he groaned. “I do not  _ know, _ Claude. Stop asking that. I am sick to death of it.”

“I was just making an observation.”

“That certainly seems to be your speciality! Simply  _ observing. _ I am sure that is all you creatures do. The legends must have come from some other beasts luring men to their deaths, as you are clearly perfectly innocent!”

Claude’s face remained blank, though his lip twitched, and he removed his hands from Dimitri. “You aren’t dead,” he said, then paused and added, “I think you should get some rest.”

Dimitri opened his mouth and closed it again. His throat tightened with regret; he was in the underwater cave of a mythical being and saw fit to yell at him? Maybe he really was trying to get himself killed.

But looking at Claude’s face, his green eyes darkening as he turned away and wriggled himself toward his hoard, he knew the real regret was from hurting the feelings of the man who had done nothing but rescue him. Dimitri felt he should apologize, but feared it would seem disingenuous and couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth again. So he tried to do as Claude told him and rest.

Now settled down, he became more aware that his body was still shivering beneath the blanket, trembling so madly that it felt as though he was being grabbed by the shoulders and thrown back and forth. He moaned and shifted on the lumpy bed, trying to get further under the blanket that already covered him, which only resulted in his bare feet sticking out into the cold air. He tried to pull them back under, but that only made his position uncomfortable and he feared if he tried to sit up and fix the blanket, the cold he’d let in would doom him.

Claude was watching from across the room, observing Dimitri’s small struggle, thinking for a brief that Dimitri deserved it only to immediately feel guilty about the thought. He pulled himself over to Dimitri’s side and tugged the blanket down over his feet again.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize how cold it would be here for a human. I should have made more blankets.”

“No, no,” Dimitri said softly. “I am sorry to have taken your bed.”

Claude cracked a smile. “It’s yours to take. It’s not like I sleep in it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Claude just gazed at him, a glint in his green eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

He placed his hands on the edge of the boat bed and hoisted himself up, his thick arms bulging with the effort of pulling the weight of his massive tail. He managed to pull his waist and backside up over the edge, dragging the bulk of his tail onto the bed and leaving his long fin to dangle off the edge. 

He lifted the blanket and shimmied his way under it until his body pressed against Dimitri’s arm and shoulder, his tail running down the length of Dimitri’s right leg. Dimitri’s body stiffened up at the sudden closeness. Pragmatic or not, now that Dimitri was more aware of his surroundings, he was aware enough to be a bit embarrassed at the sudden intimacy. But Claude  _ was _ warm.

“Tell me if you’re still cold,” Claude said. “I don’t want you freezing to death.”

“A… a bit,” Dimitri managed to say.

Claude pressed closer, wrapping an arm around him, resting his hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, and Dimitri could see his darkened fingertips and the semi-translucent skin that spread between his fingers. Looking down at his mop of brown hair, he seemed so human, and Dimitri had to remind himself that Claude was so much more. He had powers that went far beyond the simple magic of humans, and Dimitri couldn’t let his guard slip again.

But Claude made it difficult for Dimitri to not relax. With their chests now pressed close, his arm trapped between both their bodies, all Dimitri wanted to do was close his eye and let sleep take him.

Then Claude lifted the fin of his heavy tail, which stuck far out from the bottom of the blanket, and dragged it onto the bed, resting it over Dimitri’s thighs to heat up his lower body.

_ So heavy… _ he thought as Claude flopped his tail absentmindedly, resting his head beside Dimitri’s shoulder. Dimitri couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t see if they were closed or not, but his tail, it wouldn’t stop flopping, as if Claude was patting him to comfort him, but instead, the way his fin brushed his body was making the makeshift blanket press and rub against his bare privates. Dimitri swallowed hard. The last thing he wanted was for his body to react to this without his permission.

Dimitri thought perhaps he should move. Shift away from Claude, or ask Claude to get out of bed.

_ You would not dare exile a man from his own bed. And he is warming you out of the goodness of his heart. _

No, Dimitri couldn’t say anything. It would be horribly rude on top of being dangerous for his physical health. And besides, it wasn’t as if Claude was unfamiliar with…

Dimitri’s stomach flipped when he remembered, once again, that Claude was not human. There was no guarantee of his familiarity with human genitals. It wasn’t as if he had… What did he have?

Dimitri suddenly became painfully aware of Claude’s nakedness pressed against his own. His body was so smooth; Dimitri had not seen any orifices, but he had not been looking. Did anything press to him now? How did Claude…?

Dimitri’s face started to burn as his horrid thoughts only got worse, dragging him down a mental trail he couldn’t return from, and his body reacted.

_ Thump. _

Claude’s fin flopped against his thighs again. Then, seconds later, again. Dimitri looked down at him. Could he hear his heart pounding? Could he feel something change in Dimitri’s aura? Claude wasn’t saying anything. Goddess, was this what the sailors had been talking about?

_ Thump. _

Dimitri was feeling warmer. Too warm. Just around his face. And between his legs. Oh goddess, he was pressing up against the blanket. He imagined it tenting over his bulbous head. He tried to look down without moving his head, but he couldn’t see over his chest if he was overexaggerating in his mind.

_ Thump. _

“Cl-Claude…”

Claude looked up at Dimitri. Had he imagined the flash of mischief in his expression? “Yes?”

“Your, um… your tail. It is… cr-creating a bit of a breeze.”

Claude cocked his head. “Ah, is it making you cold? I thought you were feeling rather warm actually.”

_ What is that supposed to mean?! _

“No, I… I mean, you are… your tail is… distracting.”

The corners of Claude’s lips twitched. “Yes, I’ve been told its size is rather exemplary. Among others of my kind, I mean.”

“‘Others of your kind’?”

Claude’s expression seemed to soften, perhaps with pity, and Dimitri felt frustration twist at his gut. He did not need Claude’s pity. He was well within his right to be unnerved and confused. He’d fallen— _ jumped _ —into the ocean, been dragged away by the creature he’d seen in his dreams, nearly died in the freezing ocean water, and was now naked and skin to skin with a siren, a creature he’d been told over and over was dangerous. And now, to top it all off, his body was… reacting.

He wanted to chalk his erection up to simple physical response to stimuli, but Claude wasn’t making the denial easy. His deep eyes, his dark hair, softening to gentle waves as it dried, his warm chest heating up Dimitri’s whole body—Dimitri’s urges were not entirely physical.

Claude laid his head down again, nuzzling it into Dimitri’s neck, and Dimitri could feel how soft his hair was, which seemed impossible given his permanent residence in saltwater. Everything about Claude was impossible.

“Others, yes. Did you think I was the only one?” Claude paused. “I guess I’m a bit flattered that you find me so special.”

Claude  _ had _ to be joking.

“There are plenty of others, though given the immensity of the ocean, we’re pretty scarce in comparison to other species.”

“How scarce? Do you see others of your kind often?”

Claude laughed bitterly. “Not in years, not in these waters. I might have more luck if I went south, but there’s no reason to.”

“No reason? Do you not wish to be with your own people? With family and friends?”

“Sirens don’t get along well. We tend to travel alone, otherwise we fight over territory or mates.”

Dimitri turned his head slightly. “How can you mate when you scarcely see each other?”

Claude went quiet and Dimitri felt that something was being hidden from him. But he’d known Claude for all but a few hours; of course things were being hidden from him.

Claude reached up to stroke Dimitri’s hair gently behind his ear. “Don’t worry about it, Dimitri. It’s nothing you need to be thinking about.”

Dimitri swallowed hard, feeling a chill spread across his skin at the gentle touch of Claude’s fingers on his face. Claude was right; it wasn’t something he should be thinking about, but now it was too late. The thought had gotten into his head and he could not shake it. Mates. Claude mating. It was none of his business, but his thoughts drifted ever lower.

His cock twitched.

“Goddess be damned…” he muttered, shifting abruptly, turning his body away from Claude a bit, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

“Dimitri?”

“Ah, uh, apologies,” he stuttered, his body going stiff. “Just felt, er… something poked me beneath the mattress.”

“Ah, sorry,” Claude said. “I tried to make it as soft as possible.”

Dimitri felt Claude put a hand on his shoulder. He knew Claude’s eyes were staring directly into the back of his head. He couldn’t move. In this position, at least the blanket draped over his hip and didn’t show his dick so prominently. He wasn’t as comfortable, but…

“Did you want to get up while I adjust the mattress?”

“No, no, that’s all right. I can, ah, well, I have adjusted well enough.”

Claude’s arm slid from his shoulder to his bicep. “So you’re comfortable?”

“Yes. Quite.”

“Are you sure? You seem rather stiff.”

_ He knows. _

“No, I am fine. In fact, I am quite tired. If you would be so kind, I would like to rest a bit.”

He felt Claude’s grip tighten. “Is that what you want?”

A lump settled heavy in Dimitri’s throat. “Yes.”

“Are you sure? It may be too early for you to be sleeping after your dip in the ocean.”

Dimitri gritted his teeth.  _ Remain calm. _ “Stop asking me that.  _ Yes _ I am sure. I would not have said it if I was not sure. You need not question my every decision.”

Claude moved forward, and Dimitri felt hot breath on the back of his neck.  _ Oh goddess… _

“I’m giving you a chance to take back your lies, Dimitri,” he whispered. 

Dimitri’s eyes shifted to the right, as if he could see Claude poised behind him, an inch from his neck.

“I do not know what lies you speak of.”

“Take your time. We’re not going anywhere.” His voice was so gentle. Was that a threat?

“I  _ said _ I do not know what you speak of.”  _ Why are you doubling down, you fool? _

“Should I show you what I mean?”

Dimitri’s heart pounded violently in his chest and his hard cock now pointed up toward his belly. 

_ Tell him to leave. Tell him you have no interest. _

_ Liar. You wish to lie to a siren? _

_ Then tell him you are not ready yet. _

_ Yet? So you do have intentions with this man… mythical being. _

_ No. _

_ Liar. _

_ Stop. _

_ Tell him the truth. You want him. _

“Enlighten me.” Dimitri’s voice came out in a quivering whisper, and for a breathless beat, he thought perhaps Claude might devour him whole.

But instead, Claude slid his webbed hand down Dimitri’s side, under the blanket, pausing at his hip. Dimitri swallowed, looking down into the darkness where he could only feel Claude’s intentions.

“Is this okay?” Claude asked.

Dimitri blinked. “Y-Yes?”

Claude reached inward, his fingertips brushing Dimitri’s shaft, and he shivered all over.

“How about this?”

Dimitri let out a quiet moan. “Yes…”

Finally, Claude wrapped his gentle fingers around Dimitri’s thick length.

“Hahhh…” Dimitri sighed.

“You’re hard,” Claude said, his tone strangely observant.

Dimitri breathed out. “Yes?”

“That means you feel good, right?”

Dimitri blinked. Wait. How familiar was Claude with human genitals? More importantly, how different was his from Dimitri’s? Dimitri’s face burned red; the question sounded so innocent.

“Yes, I… it is a reaction… to pleasurable, uh, t-touch.”

Claude looked down and ran his hand up the length of Dimitri’s shaft to the tip, and his hips twitched. The pounding in his heart filled his ears and he groaned, shifting nervously. Claude pulled back.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No! No, that felt… good,” Dimitri said, unable to meet the man’s eyes.

“You want this.”

“I…”

Dimitri didn’t know. This didn’t feel real; how could it be? He was in a siren’s cove, snuggled up to a mythical creature so handsome his uncouth body had become aroused, and now he was being touched. There. And he wanted more. Or was it just his body that wanted more? Surely he couldn’t go through with this.

And yet, what were the consequences? He was dead. The ship taking him to the Alliance had to be long gone by now, wherever it was. He was at Claude’s mercy regardless; there was no getting out of here without his help.

_ You have to do what he says or you’ll never get out. _

Dimitri took a quivering breath. No, he was not getting out, and he doubted Claude was going to let him when he was done with him. Eggs or not, even humans did not help other humans without ulterior motives. But that didn’t matter. There was no reason to fight this.

_ You are already dead. _

“Do what you want,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. 

_ What about Felix? What about the war and the good people you’re leaving behind to suffer without you? What about Edelgard? _

Dimitri’s eyes started to sting and he brought a hand up to rub them.

_ What about your father? And Glenn, waiting for you to avenge their deaths so they can rest in peace? Do you think you deserve to stay here, to die in relative peace, while they suffer for all eternity for your mistakes? _

“No… No…” Dimitri murmured, squirming, turning away from Claude again.

Claude let go of Dimitri, letting his cock fall back against his leg. His hand moved up to Dimitri’s face.

“Dimitri? Dimitri, what’s wrong?”

“I am… I am not deserving…” he moaned. “I need to go back, people… depend on me.”

Dimitri pictured Felix’s stern gaze, those disgusted eyes, upper lip curled like Dimitri reeked of something foul.

_ If you would just listen to me, boar! Rgh! I’m so sick of listening to your drivel about the dead, as if that’s any excuse to burden the living with your incompetent leadership. Are you trying to get everyone killed? You are the leader by the right of your blood; you didn’t earn it, so shut up and do as I say before more people die! _

_ You’re nothing but a figurehead to throw our banner behind. Do you think we dragged you out of that tower because we wanted your guidance? If you weren _ ’ _ t your father’s son, I’d have left you behind so no one else has to die waiting for you to wake up! _

Felix was always so tired. And he wasn’t the only one; he was just the only one who snapped at Dimitri. But Sylvain, Ingrid, they were exhausted too, heading his armies, fighting under his name while he refused to cooperate with any of them. No, people did not depend on him. He was a liability to them.

But that didn’t mean he was allowed to hide out in peace. He hadn’t jumped to find peace. He didn’t deserve peace.

“I don’t know what to do,” he moaned, curling in on himself. “I have a duty to claim vengeance…”

He didn’t sound convinced. Instead, his voice cracked and he struggled to speak, feeling overwhelmed by the impossibility of his mission. The reality of it had been clouded by rage, but now his eyes were cleared.

“It’s impossible…”

Claude hovered over him, radiating nervous energy as Dimitri curled up and choked. He stroked the salt-clumped locks of his hair from his face.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

Dimitri shook his head, mumbling into his hands too quietly for Claude to hear.

“Shhh… shhh, Dimitri…”

Dimitri’s shoulders shook as he coughed out a sob, and Claude’s fingers came back wet when he stroked his cheek.

“I cannot… I-I… Father, I… nnn,” he groaned.

Claude took unsteady breaths, reaching his hand lower to rub against Dimitri’s cold chest, which was filled with an ache so strong that Claude felt it too. 

Quietly, deep in his throat, Claude began to hum. At first, it was just a low, single tone, echoing lightly in the sharp stone ceiling above them. Then it started to warp and change into a melody, which swam through notes without ever settling on a pattern. Perhaps it was the ancient magic of Claude’s kind, or perhaps it was simply the beauty of his voice, but Dimitri stopped muttering to listen.

Claude rubbed his chest in slow circles, feeling his breathing slow down, and as it did, Claude lowered himself back down to settle into Dimitri’s back. His arm came down to rest around him, still stroking slowly, and his head settled behind Dimitri’s again. Lips slightly parted. Dimitri felt as though he were right at his ear, whispering his strange tones right into his mind.

Claude didn’t stop his song until Dimitri only sniffled every few seconds. His breathing had slowed, he was no longer crying, and his eyes were half lidded, as if he was near dozing. Claude leaned his head forward and rested his lips on the back of Dimitri’s shoulder, finally quieting himself.

“Good job, Dimitri,” he murmured into his cold skin. “You’re so good… I’m proud of you.”

Claude felt a hand gently enclose around his own, squeezing weakly, and Claude smiled.


End file.
